


My Boswell, the Mad Doctor

by HighlandYorkie



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlandYorkie/pseuds/HighlandYorkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is just full of surprises</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Boswell, the Mad Doctor

It was the smell of burnt fibre and overly heated metal combined with a touch of soot and melted lead that awoke me from my slumber coupled with a loud yell of.

“Aha, by Jove I finally have it!”

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed and giving a loud yawn. I sat there and out of habit I tried rubbing the sleep from my eyes with my good arm wondering what on earth that my ever present companion was up to now. What laws of physics or some other venerable science had he managed to bend to his will or worse still had he managed to open a portal to some godforsaken dimension in time and space, something I hate to admit, which was an all too common nightmare of mine ever since the events of some nine months ago.

My room was almost pitch black due to the heavy drapes and a quick glance at my pocket watch laying open on the nightstand, the ever present sound of whirring filled the silence around me as I focused on it despite the darkness..only to discover it was a little before 4am.

So it was with a touch of trepidation that I got up and slipped into my sleeveless dressing gown before flinging open the bedroom door not sure of what I would find.

“Must you wake the dead at this ungodly hour?”

There in the middle of our overly crowded sitting room was none other than my very own “Boswell” John Watson, his face a picture of delight and satisfaction. Every surface around him was covered either in pieces of brass and copper or delicate looking items made from glass as well as some strange fabric that I had not been able to identify previously.

“I have it Holmes” he beamed “I’ve finally managed to stabilise the gyrothermic dynamo and thus it is now usable and quite safe”

I looked down at the object to which he pointed and my heart sank, it was if someone had pulled the wings off some strange huge metal bird and dumped them upon the floor, a blood like oil was slowly spreading everywhere.

“And I have managed to reduce the mass quite considerably so when you try these, you wont have so much weight to compensate for thus landing will be a doddle” his smile grew bigger as he spoke, that strange smirk of his only added to my impending sense of doom.

I blanched and stared at him “Try these?”

“Yes, yes” he nodded totally oblivious to my look of horror

“But my dear fellow” I gasped “I still have the erm, bruises from the last experiment that I helped you with” I rubbed my arm at the still fresh and painful memory.

“Oh that, merely a slight bump” he chuckled “I had completely forgot to take the added weight of your winter clothes plus tools into consideration, it wont happen again I can assure you”

“A mere bump, Watson I lost my blasted arm!” I cried out in utter disbelief.

John Watson paled as he finally remembered “Yes you did, didn’t you” he closed the gap between us and pulled up the sleeve to my nightshirt

“How is the prosthetic?”

“It works well, you are a genius when it comes to such matters”

Instinctively I knew he did not hear my words of praise for he was busy checking the brass and copper limb that had replaced my own flesh and bone.

“Well, I have had personal experience in the matter old boy” he gave his leg a quick glance and winked.

“No problems with the gears or pulleys?” he asked me

“None at all”

“I am of course working on a more slimline model so that you might be able to play your violin again”

“Thank you, that would be nice”

“And the vision”

“Much better for the ocular implants”

“Wonderful”

Yes my dear readers, while I was the first and if I might be so bold as to say the best consulting detective this world has ever known, a genius at deduction with unparalleled skills and yet all that I knew meant nothing compared to the twisted genius that was John H Watson.

So great was this man’s ability, so far ahead of his time were his thoughts and ideas that my brother Mycroft in his capacity of representing the government of this great nation had asked me to keep an eye on him at the behest of the Prime Minister himself and thus our partnership commenced.

If Watson only knew to what lengths we had all gone to control and even limit his wild ideas and schemes he would have no doubt have made a great nemesis of mine but thankfully for all his genius he was a simple trusting soul quite willing to do anything and everything for Queen and country. So he was quite content to become my Boswell, my chronicler all the while I was his unknown guardian shielding him from harm and those that would use his skills for evil. 

If only Moriarty had known that it was Watson that had help scupper so many of his plans through his ability to create the impossible from the impractical.

I had seen with my very own eyes the man take most innocent of random objects and construct the most fiendish of devices. While I would use lock picks to try and open a locked door, he would simply attach one of his many devices and the within a second the lock would click open of its own.

And then there was the case of my vision.

I wish I could tell you that I sacrificed it while out tackling some great evil, unfortunately that was not the case. I had been struck down by a sudden and quite deliberating myopia, one that was threatening my very role as the last bastion of justice for so many.

Thus my dear, dear Watson put that great mind of his to correcting this problem, spurred on by the motion that I Sherlock Holmes could not be seen to be a mere mortal who was prone to mortal weaknesses, he started work on constructing these glasses that are now forever attached to my countenance. 

How he did it I do not know, but whatever he did..it worked and amazingly so for I am now not only able to see perfectly I am also able to see as perfectly in the dark, plus I no longer require the use of a magnifying glass.

I often sit and wonder if I should take up the pen and tell the world about the hidden adventures we have both had over the years due to Watson’s creative genius.

But who would want to hear such truths, these tales of mystery and the bizarre.

All I knew as I looked at Watson while he closely examined my new arm making very subtle adjustments to various dials, that those mechanical wings were no doubt the start of another great adventure.


End file.
